Belle's Hell: A Story of Survival
by UncleMeg
Summary: One day Belle finds a seriously creepy (and Arabic) genie in a seriously old lamp while fleeing from a seriously bad day as being Beast's wife. (This is for my domestic violence survivors! The world isn't meant to have victims-only victors!)


Chapter One: Belle's Hell

Today was a big day for Belle. Today, she wasn't going to be treated like no bitch anymore.

See, life wasn't as happily as one would think living with a verbally abusive, hostage-holding-ex-bear-monster husband for her. Sadly, it took a good two years for her to reach this epiphany. One might ask, "Why would she deal with this for so long? Why wouldn't she just leave?" (Basically putting all the blame onto her). Well, my single reader, it doesn't work that way when you're afraid that a castle werewolf is going to rip your head off. But today, today she reached the limit she wished she had reached almost two years previously. And she had got to the breaking point while the man of her dreams was breaking her nose.

See, Belle had done the dastardly thing of not getting pregnant fast enough for her husband's liking. See, they had non-consensual sex the night previous and, thanks to 18th century logic, she should have been showing signs of expectancy already! Naturally, the husband, once again thanks to 18th century logic, concluded it was her fault.

While he was blaming it on "a bad fish that she ate that was cursing her womb from child rearing", Belle was in fact purposely preventing her pregnancy but not with satanic salmon. She was taking birth control. As one could imagine, the last thing Belle wanted was a baby with this beast. Not only was giving birth the number one killer among women (second only to the plague and drinking water) but Belle did not want to be a mother. See, Belle had a radical notion that just because you can make babies, doesn't mean you have to make babies (what kind of bullshit is this?!). Thankfully for her, she still had her husband's loyal servants/ former furniture who took pity on the poor bride and helped her in lessen her suffering. Even if she could not control what others did to her body, she still had a little control left. And that gave her something to hold onto.

Anyway, today went on as it usually does: Belle hiding in her library until her husband would come in and start raving about her "belly full of sea-serpents" and how it was her fault he couldn't "plant a baby with his man-milk" in her "barren Satan garden". Normally Bell would shut down, pushing all of her dreams, feelings and even her soul into her feet so it would not bother her when he would drag her by her hair and start punching her stomach. But today, he didn't assault her womb. Today he punched her in the nose. An instant sharp pain flooded her face and, for the first time in nearly two years, tears prickled her eyes. She cried out in agony, which only fueled her husband's rage further.

"Just like my mother! Can't take a punch!" He roared out in disgust as his wife held her face and wept.

Despite the splitting pain that took over, Belle could see her husband's shadow grow bigger as his arms were stretching backwards to propel another attack. Without thinking, she grabbed for the nearest thing, a book no less, and rammed it, hard, into his man-milk jug. Her husband sank in pain and Belle took this opportunity to run. With one hand over her nose and the other with the book that saved her, she sprinted as fast as she could to the nearest room. With panic, paranoia and pain overriding her other senses she ended up confusing his heavy footsteps running towards her for her own heart beating and chose a room in a wing on the oppose end of the castle. Adrenaline pumping her heart beat wild, she used her tiny foot to kick the heavy door shut. She let go of her face to lock the door, blood pouring out like she was going to drink tea with it. Belle could barely see, the pain of her broken nose was blinding, and every gasp she made only made her paranoia grow thinking her husband could hear her cowardly breathing. She bit the book in her hand just so she wouldn't be too hysterical to look for a window to climb out of. But there wasn't a shred of light in the entire room. The room she chose had no windows and only one door. A dark dread filled her heart as she thought she was trapped but, desperate, she got on her knees and began feeling around the room for a trapdoor. Echoes of her husband's loud banging nearly stopped her heart from beating as she feared he was really on the other side of the door and so she waved her hand around franticly for anything that could help her. All she felt was something smooth and cold brush against the tips of her fingers. She heard thundering rush in what she assumed was her direction and a great depression swept over her. She collapsed onto her side, tucking the book into her achy stomach as tears streamed down her cheeks and into the cracks of the floor.

Suddenly though, her death chamber gained a transcendent light and instantly the whole room glittered with brilliance. This didn't interest Belle (she was used to bright lights coming out of nowhere at this point) but a haughty voice proceeded that caught her attention:

"Great, another female on the floor crying her eyes out as soon as I come into the room."

This is when Belle ignored the painful instinct that told her she died to look up and see a pointy, angular man with yellow eyes wearing red garments, holding a snake-shaped staff stand before her.

"Dear Allah! What happened to you?" The man cried out.

One would think the first thing Belle would ask this man would be "who are you" or "where did you come from" or even a "get me the hell out of here" but instead, with blood draining out of her nose and eyes full of tears, she asked this magic man, "Allah? Are you Arabic?"

"Well, obviously…" The man sighed, rolling his eyes.

"So what does that make you?" She inquired, curiously.

"That makes me an all-powerful genie." He replied in a booming voice.

"Wait—are we going to the Islamic Hell or Christian Hell?"

"No—wait—what are we talking about?" The Red Genie asked, confused.

"Are you not taking me to Hell?" She asked, meekly.

This is when the Red Genie let out a slimy chuckle, bent down to her level and breathed, "Only naughty girls go there."

Needless to say, Belle wasn't in the mood to be flirted with a creepy snake man. But her annoyance was interrupted by the rapturous sounds of four hard thuds hitting the door. "COME HERE AND TAKE YOUR BEATING LIKE A MAN!"

Noticing the way she cowered at the unknown man's voice, the Red Genie named Jafar was filled with sympathy for the plighted lady and gave her a suggestion: "I don't know how much you know about Genies. But since you rubbed my lamp, you now get three wishes. And while I can't let people wish for murder, I can deliver other horrors to people if you are…creative enough."

Belle looked over her shoulder to the door that was now shaking with her husband's knockings and her eyes narrowed in hate. She got on her feet, grabbed the snake staff from her genie's hands and marched over to the door. Swinging it open, all her husband saw was his little wife swing a golden staff at his skull.

He fell to the floor like the last assault before but this time she didn't stop at one good hit. She didn't stop when she smashed his nose in or when she cracked his ribs or when she ruptured his collar bones and split his lips. She didn't stop when she heard a low popping confirm she dislocated his arms and wasn't close to being done when she slammed the staff onto his pelvis.

So the Red Genie stood back to watch this battered wife get all her pent up rage out until her arms were too sore to lift the instrument any longer and her legs were shaking. Finally, out of breath and sweaty, she took one last look at her once good-looking king who laid before her bleeding and moaning with pain before spitting in his gingered hair and saying, "I want a divorce."

She then spun on her heel and handed the Red Genie his staff back. She then bent down on the floor to retrieve the book that had helped her retain her dignity. Stepping over her ex-husband's lost teeth, she walked down the wing.


End file.
